


Seven Scars

by deputyrook



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Gen, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 15:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deputyrook/pseuds/deputyrook
Summary: Your soulmate shares your every scar and tattoo. Rook wakes up one day to words scarred across their body.





	Seven Scars

When the words start to appear in jagged scars across Rook’s skin- that’s when they start to worry that maybe their soulmate isn’t like everyone else’s.

Compared to their friends growing up, Rook always had a lot of scars. Faint stripes showing up across their back at first, whip marks, and cuts blooming on their cheek. Their parents always gave them the saddest look when they showed them where the scars had appeared in the night, and it wasn’t until later that they realized why. They weren’t pretty tiger stripes, as they’d claimed when they were young. Their soulmate, Rook knew, had suffered an abuse more terrible than they could imagine. Rook spent hours staring at the scars, wondering were their soulmate was, and if they were okay. Fearing for them-  _aching_  for them, praying that they would be safe.

They’re glad when the marks stop appearing so frequently as they get older, taking it to mean that their soulmate’s managed to escape the abuse. They wonder if they’re happy now, as they trace the faint lines across their skin. They wonder when they’ll be able to meet them.

There are only a few scars that they have that Rook knows they’ve passed to their soulmate. When they were thirteen, they was hit by a car while riding their bike, resulting in a long gash across their shoulder. Later, at 19, they tripped into a shelf, resulting in a small but deep scar just over their eyebrow. When Rook meets people, they always looks there, just over their eyebrow, for a small scar. But they never find it.

And then one morning, when they’re getting ready to go to the academy for another day of police training, they looks in the mirror and freeze.

_GREED_. Five letters, scarred across their bicep. They stare at the word in the mirror.  _What the fuck?_

The other sins come shortly after-  _LUST_ , under their navel,  _SLOTH,_  on their shoulder.  _PRIDE_  and  _ENVY_  and  _GLUTTONY_  on their back. Rook wants to cry. They feel so utterly helpless. Who would do this to their soulmate? Did they do it to themselves?

And then the tattoos begin to show. A large symbol across their back- they’ve got no _idea_ what it means. A woman then, on their arm. A litany of religious themed tattoos across their chest. Rook has to admit, they’re becoming more worried with each day that passes, and more embarrassed to be seen with so many markings, often ones which are bizarre and unusual and difficult to cover.

Who is their soulmate? What are they doing? Where are they now?

When Rook hears about a cult spreading across Montana, their blood goes cold. And when they see the cult’s symbol, a cross matching the one etched onto the skin of their back, the feeling of dread in their stomach drops lower than they could have thought possible. Their soulmate was in a  _cult_ \- or maybe, they’d been captured by the cult? Either way, it made them sick with worry for them.

So when a small team begins to form, the first cops that will be going in to apprehend the cult’s leader, of course Rook signs up. They’re a rookie, but with enough pushing, they confirm their spot on the team. Stepping into the helicopter, determination wells in their chest. They’re going to find their soulmate, and they’re going to save them. Rook is certain of it.

It’s that steadfast determination which carries them through the ride, and then across the yard of the compound. Without it, they’re sure that the anxiety they feel thrumming in their chest would cripple them. Dogs howl as the team rushes forward, Rook following behind- the place is a mess. It’s horrifying. Cultists stand left and right, tattooed and armed and angry. Fire burns around the perimeter, and people jeer and hiss as they pass. Rook wants to throw up, knowing that their soulmate could be so close to them- with every person they pass, Rook looks to their eyebrow, scanning for a scar that’ll match their own. They don’t know if they’re relieved or not when they can’t find it.

There’s a sermon coming from the church, a preaching which doesn’t stop when Whitehorse and Marshal charge into the building. Rook is thankful they’re leading the charge, even though Whitehorse looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, and the Marshal seems just about ready to start a firefight, which is the last thing Rook wants. The determination that sent them here on a mission is wavering, and they’re almost afraid their legs will give out as they cross into the building.

At first, Rook can’t see Joseph Seed, the man they’ve heard is  _The Father_ , the leader of the growing cult. They just hear him speaking loudly to the congregation, a passion burning in his voice just as hot as the fire in the barrels outside. But when they do catch a glimpse of him, and then a better view, as they near, Rook feels their mouth go dry, and their throat close up. For a moment, it’s hard to breathe- if feels as though they’ve been kicked in the chest.

They don’t need to look at his eyebrow, because every line across the man’s body they’ve seen mirrored on their own. It’s him- he’s their  _soulmate._

“Rook!” They don’t realize they’re staring until the Marshal’s yelled at them. They look at him, eyes wide, still shocked. “Arrest him, for Christ’s sake.”

Joseph Seed steps forward, arms outstretched. After a moment’s hesitation, they step forward and place the cuffs on his wrist, their body acting as though it’s on autopilot. If they’re thankful for anything, it’s that no one in this room knows the scars and tattoos that their clothes hide.

But when they snap the cuffs shut, they make a mistake. They look up, up into his eyes, inches from him, and they know he can see the emotions swimming in their expression- fear, and hurt, and worry, and sorrow. Joseph seems to be puzzled for a moment at them. And then, he notices the scar just over their eyebrow.

It’s like time stops. Rook sees his breath hitch in his throat, and at that moment, no one else in the room matters. Nothing about the situation matters. The world could be ending outside of the church, and in that moment, all that matters is this- the mutual understanding that is shared in that moment between them, of who they each are to one another. What it means.

Joseph exhales his breath softly, his eyes darting across their face. And then time resumes. His lips curve upward ever so slightly, but he says nothing as he lets Rook place a shaking hand on his shoulder, and start to lead him out of the church.

The hand on his shoulder is the only thing steadying them as they walk, and Rook can tell Joseph knows it. If it wasn’t for that one point of contact, Rook is quite certain they’d collapse. It’s too much to take in, to think about, so Rook simply follows the others back to the copter. They’ll get Joseph out of here, and then they’ll figure things out. One step at a time. 

They’ll figure things out when they get out of here.

Slipping into the helicopter, Joseph takes a seat beside them. Rook jumps when they feel his hand brushing against their own shaking one. Joseph laces his fingers with theirs, and he slips up their sleeve as he begins to sing softly. It’s the sleeve which hides the tattoo of the woman, whose identity has always piqued Rook’s curiosity. Quickly, Rook yanks their hand away and pulls their sleeve back down before Hudson or the Marshal can see, but Joseph has gotten what he wanted-  _confirmation._

As if to make up for earlier, time seems to run at double speed. One moment, the copter is lifting off the ground, to shouts and scrambling and Jospeh singing so sweetly beside them, and the next, they’re falling, crashing into the woods. 

They wake up to flames and smoke. Everything is burning. They almost feel like they’re burning, too, until they feel two cool hands caressing their face. Blinking to clear their vision, Rook sees Joseph, hovering in front of them.

“I’m going to take you home now.” He says, his voice low, “My  _love_. My  _soulmate_.” The tenderness in his voice makes Rook want to cry. They don’t fight him as he unhooks their seatbelt and helps them out of the helicopter, carrying them away from the scene in his arms like his bride.

 


End file.
